


This is the END

by JohnConstantine



Series: This is the End [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Drug Use, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-17
Updated: 2013-09-17
Packaged: 2017-12-26 21:46:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/970630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JohnConstantine/pseuds/JohnConstantine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>End!Verse: Castiel shares a secret relationship with the camp's prisoner/spy. Meg at first has every intention to wrap Castiel around her finger, but what happens when something more emerges?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sharing Joints

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea if I can in fact finish this story, but I will upload all five chapters and try and make more updates

It was a horrible day anyway and Castiel was itching to be home.

The hunt was a bust, and again, the Colt was nowhere in sight. It wasn't that he doubted his informant, but something seemed suspiciously odd with how many demons were guarding absolutely nothing.

"You need to talk to her," Dean told him. "Because you're the only one she'll listen to."

With a sigh he slung his forty-seven off his shoulder and shoved it in the backseat of the small truck, grunting when Dean passed by and practically slugged him in the back.

"Remember the demon."

"Yeah."

He hated cars, and hated driving more. Mostly because he had to be sober but overall they were cramped and tight spaces made him panic slightly.

 _That's what happened when an angel is stuffed in a meatsuit for the rest of his life_.

Yanking open the glovebox he frowned at the empty cigarette packs strewn all over and the final joint he had stuffed behind a flask and some yellowing paper.

 _Reminder: talk to Don_.

He was glad, however, that this particular raid was so close to the camp, which meant sleep and probably not having to listen to Dean rant about how much of a failure this whole mission was. On top of that, Chuck would probably bother him (since Dean refused to help sort out materials and needs there, stating that "a genius like Castiel would be much better for the job". Ironic), and to be honest, he had one thing on his mind.

 _Rest_.  _Maybe something to drink._

Pulling into the gate that separated Chautauqua from the rest of the world, a swell of relief blossomed inside him. From what he could see, she wasn't outside, which meant that if he was quick enough, he would be able to avoid everything all together. And the good thing was, he was damn quick.

Shutting the door quietly behind him, attempting to ignore the passing hunters and refugees that shot greetings his way, he felt his grin widen as he managed up the front steps to his cabin, the rotten wood smell and the strange tinge of sulphur almost assaulting him as he bounded in.

"'Bout time you got back," a voice almost whispered, and he turned to see Meg, naked, propped up on her elbows and watching him. "I was starting to think you'd gotten ganked."

"No, not yet, at least," he scratched at his short beard, blue eyes never leaving her. "The hunt was a bust."

"What?"

"The Colt wasn't there."

"Damn it!"

"Dean thinks you knew it wouldn't be there."

Meg's eyes narrowed. "I told you. One-hundred-percent honesty, or I'll let you all kill me."

He sighed. it wasn't long ago that the demon was collateral, a prisoner of a mission. She'd managed to gain both his and Dean's trust, or what little of it he was willing to give.

She'd proved to be a loyal asset, working as a double agent and the camp's own demon detector, and even somehow managed to win the hearts of a few of the hunters here.

"So I didn't screw that up. They must have gotten you some other way."

"Alright."

"You believe me?"

"Of course I do. I don't have reason yet not to."

He watched her smirk as she swung her legs off over the bed, brown eyes shifting to black while she walked towards him, sliding off his jacket and pressing a kiss to the side of his neck.

"Prove it."

He found her lips and kissed her, the demon tugging at his shirt while he ran his hands down her shoulders. he felt her dark power nip at his skin and he broke away to lift his shirt along with her, leaning his weight down so that she fell back first against the old bed, little clouds of dust puffing out under the stress.

Sliding her up to the top, Castiel rejoined her, hands supporting him on either side of her head as sharp nails grazed down his front.

"You reek," she muttered when they broke apart again, Castiel's eyes squinting in confusion. "Don't get me wrong, Clarence, the smell of smoke is to die for, but that damn smell-"

"I didn't even have one today."

Meg scoffed. "Your pupils are as big as the fucking moon and you're a terrible liar. And is that..." she sniffed him. "And is that absynth?"

He shrugged, tiredness starting to weigh him down as he dipped his head again, her hands moving from his chest down to tug at his jeans.

"Tired," he muttered against her lips, and with a defiant shove Meg had him pinned down on his back.

"Who said this was for you anyway?" she whispered, undressing him completely and straddling his abdomen. "My info was false. I'm a little pissed about that.

"And i need something to take it out on."

She scooted back against his cock, feeling how hard the organ was under her cunt, and with a smirk she watched Castiel roll back, moaning against her movements.

"Not so righteous anymore, are you?" she mused, watching him grab at the sheets. "Gotta love it though. Broken angel with a splash of kinky. I like."

She felt a groan vibrate down his chest when she lifted herself over his hips, sliding down his cock while leaving tiny rivets down his chest with her nails. Castiel looked almost in pain, and she couldn't fault the powerless angel for leaning back and shutting his eyes.

"Open those, Clarence."

"What?"

"I want you to watch. I want you to scream so loud the fucking Croats will come charging the gate."

He felt her rock harder against him and he forced his eyes open, rolling his head back and gritting his teeth together. He felt his will slipping away, as well as perhaps his own sanity, blue eyes fixed on the demon as she rolled her own head back, Castiel's pain quickly becoming her pleasure.

She felt him lose control earlier than she expected and with a disappointed hiss she felt him come inside her, the former angel letting out a silenced scream through closed teeth.

"That was exciting," she muttered sarcastically.

"I'm sorry," he breathed, rolling his head to the side and reaching for a green bottle that rested on it's side on the nightstand. "I'm tired."

"Obviously."

She watched him not even bother to pour himself a glass as he sat up and shakily downed the alcohol, the sweet numbness causing his eyes to squint and vision to blur.

"Well, that's rude."

"Better than..." he rummaged at the little brown bottles he had stashed in the drawer, finally grabbing one and squinting so hard at the label that she doubted he could even see it at all. "Whatever the fuck this is."

She released him and stood on her knees before falling back on his legs, the entire moment gone as he took another sip. Long ago she would be joining him, taking her own swigs from the bottle.

She expected him to be this giant knight in shining armor like the angels were supposed to be. but instead she had a powerless mess, one that seemed to collapse at any minute.

She watched him grab a joint off the floor and prepare to light it.

"Not tonight," she said, yanking it from his hands. "Can't deal with the smell."

"That's still so ironic, coming from you."

She glared at him, watching his eyes slightly widen as she climbed over his body to lean over the bed and grab the ratty old comforter and flow it out over them.

"You're staying?" he asked her, unable to watch her anymore as his eyes closed.

"Yeah, why not," Meg muttered, resting her head on his chest and feeling am arm rest over her back.

"You're so strange."

"So are you."

He didn't respond, and she didn't expect him to.


	2. Seeking Demons

Castiel was fucked.

He knew he was fucked hard because he woke up with the worst hangover he'd ever had. And the demon was gone.

Maybe that was the worst part of it. Meg was no where in sight and she was his charge. Dean was gonna have his neck.

With a tired groan he sat up in his old bed, trying to blink awake and stretch, the soft pain of a sunburn on his shoulders causing him a bit more pain than he prefered. He deflated.

 _Wonderful way to start the day_.

Getting dressed, Castiel mentally prepared himself for the pissing match with Dean over the demon. Not only was Dean against even keeping her at camp, but now he'd slept with her and she was gone, probably as far away as she could get.

Great.

"Cas," a voice called out and he turned to see Dean slowly opening the door. "Come on, I need you."

Squinting his eyes against the sun, Castiel stumbled out of his cabin and awaited the inevitable blast wave.

Until he saw Meg chatting with a few hunters and Dean pulling him over to where Chuck was freaking out over something Castiel didn't care about.

"Dean, this is serious. We're running out of toilet paper and- wait I thought you said you were getting a mediator?"

"I did. Trust me, Cas knows just so much more about this than I do," Dean smirked, smacking Cas on his sunburned back and not even noticing the wince of pain. "Don't you, Cas?"

"Dean-" but the human was already gone, and Chuck's smile grew wider.

"Okay good. We have these supplies we still need to keep in order..."

To be honest, if Castiel could lay down and die he would. He felt drained, tired, and everything felt as though it was weighing him down hard. His hangover was starting to evaporate, thankfully, but his mind kept wandering.

_Meg saved my ass. Again._

It was why she never stayed with him after their nights together. She would always leave after sex, return to her designated place, Maybe hit Castiel up again in another few days. But to be honest...

There was a strange, sort of warm feeling he got from what she did.

She was alone, finally, Dean's group finally done questioning her and with a heavy sigh he sauntered over to her, still trying to wake up after sixteen hours of constant activity.

"Meg."

"Cas."

"What you did-"

"If you think it was to keep everyone off the radar of what you and I have been doing the past months, forget it," she leaned back in the rusted armchair. "I did it to save my own ass and you know it."

"I meant staying with me last night, even though Dean could have caught you."

"Your boytoy's a little aggressive, isn't he? More so than he used to be."

"You could say that. After Sam..." Castiel cleared his throat. "he could have caught you."

"I'm not stupid, Castiel. I'm not gonna get my ass handed to me."

"I'm glad," he muttered, lifting her from the chair up to her feet before pressing his face against hers. "I would hate to see what would happen."

She smirked against his lips. "Yeah, I bet you would."

For the first time he didn't care if anyone saw them, and he didn't even care if Dean saw them. Wrapping her arms around his neck she pulled him down farther to kiss him, Castiel's hands going to her sides and with gentle roughness she had his lips parted and her teeth on his tongue.

He felt himself melting into her when she abruptly stopped, a groan of disappointment silenced by Meg pressing a finger against her lips.

He could hear soldiers talking around the corner and with a sigh he understood.

"When, then?"

"Later. Tomorrow, maybe."

"Not tomorrow. We're on a mission."

Meg frowned. "Okay, fine. Tonight. But stay up. Wait for me."

"I will," he let her go and turned towards his cabin, glancing back occasionally to see Meg change back to the cold demon she was.


	3. He Knew

"Meg."

He loved feeling her hair dip just on his shoulders, the way she kept him pinned down with abnormal strength, the way she teased him with hard with every pass of her cunt over his dick.

He was drunk again, having drained the last bit of whiskey he kept in his slowly thinning emptier bottle collection. His head was rolled back and his hands were clenched in the sheets, waiting for her to make a move.

 

"Meg…"

"Shh," she whispered, his erection rising against her soft folds and her eyes jet black. "You’re sloppy when you’re drunk."

"I’ve noticed that," he groaned, his hips rising up to her. "You’re taking too long-"

"You forget who’s the demon, angelface," she lowered her lips to just brush his forehead. "I still like my torture."

She liked seeing him defenseless, seeing him want to beg for her and using what little angelic self control he had left to try and keep himself from screaming out her name. It was a sort of ego boost she loved.

"Say it."

The smell of alcohol was strong on his breath. “No.”

"You gotta play the game to get the prize, Cas, or we both lose."

"Meg…" his voice rasped. "Just fuck me. Please."

"Ever think you’d be on your knees begging a demon?" she asked him, knowing full well his answer. He replied by grabbing her hips with his hands, sliding down her skin as she lifted herself off him and slid over his cock. "Personally, I think it’s super hot."

He said nothing, just grit his teeth and slammed his eyes shut as she rocked slowly onto him, her hands pressed firmly on his chest and his blunt nails trying to dig in her skin.

"Too slow!" he hissed out, and with a loud groan he felt her move even slower. She was playing with his head.

"Patience Clarence," she purred. "You’ll get what you want. Eventually. Give it time."

He probably would have if it didn’t feel like his head was going to explode from the haze. 

"Meg." 

"You know I hate drunk fucking. I have to do all the damn work," she glared down at him, sighing at his shut eyes. You know I just…hate it.”

"Yet you come back," he countered, all look of pain washed away from his face.

Meg glared down at him, wanting to punch that smirk off his face. “You know, that’s gonna be what kills you..”

"Not unless I kill myself first."

She didn’t answer and he tried to pry his eyes open to see why. She was facing the doorway, her eyes quickly darting from brown to black.

"What?"

"Pretend your asleep."

"What?"

"Do you want to be caught?" she hissed at him, sliding off his body and throwing his tattered comforter over his hips.

He rolled his head to try and see her but she was gone. And almost a split second later, he saw the beam of flashlights peer through his glazed window.

He didn’t mind the sudden invasions at night; it was mostly Dean or Balthazar just trying to keep the peace in the camp. But now, of all times…

He felt the fuzz of his drunkenness tug at him, and with one more glance to the side of the cabin he shut his eyes.

—

"CASTIEL."

The hiss of his name yanked him back into consciousness, and with a quick jump Castiel Scrambled to sit up.

"Dean?"

"Where is she?" Dean’s voice graveled as he Cas’s door, anger clearly evident on his face.

"I don’t know."

"Damn it, Cas. i saw her come out of- are you drunk?"

"Hungover," the ex-angel corrected. "Why would she be here?"

"I’m not stupid, Cas. We saw her come out of here. And now she’s gone!" Dean paced around the small room. "I mean, for God’s sake, she was our only fucking asset to saving the Goddamn world! And she’s gone!"

"I still don’t get why you’re asking me."

Dean paused. “Are you denying it? Cas there’s rumors about you two flying out the fucking wazoo. Everyone in this damn camp knows you’re the one who takes charge of her, damn it.”

"So you know."

"Yeah. Yeah I know."

"And?"

"I’m not your ex boyfriend, Cas, I’m your friend. If you wanna rub asses with a demon that’s fine by me. here’s a lot more important matters in this world."

Castiel blinked the one tired eye he managed to open. “Thank you.”

"Now where is she?"

"I don’t know. She doesn’t exactly tell me where she goes."

"Well, you better come with me and find her, ‘cause Balth’s got a group out looking for her."

"She’ll be fine."

"You sure about that?"

Castiel considered it. “You’re right. Let me get ready.”


	4. No Name

He didn’t even expect to find her.

Hell, he didn’t expect the hollow ache in his chest when Dean told him she went missing. Of course she was free to roam around the camp, but leaving it…

Dean kept saying he didn’t like it. Castiel was more or less indifferent because of the joint form earlier this morning.

 

Leading a small team, the former angel tried to blink away a haze as he sat in the passenger seat of his small truck, one of the hunters taking the wheel while he looked for the demon.

It wasn’t that Dean was worried about her. Meg could easily take care of herself, but the fact was she was their only informant since Crowley was killed. And somehow, Castiel couldn’t tear his mind from her.

 _"It’s just a weird relationship_ , _Cas”_ , Dean had said.  _"It’s not like you’re in love with her_ ”.

He was not in love with her. Sex was sex. Meaningless. The angel had learned that.

…hadn’t he?

Castiel felt his confusion start to blow away as he allowed more of the haze to take him over, losing that last bit of control as the truck turned down a quiet road, Castiel barely able to focus outside as the trucks in front of them stopped.

"What’s going on?" Castiel growled as his head almost slammed into the front from the abrupt stop. 

"Shh," the hunter he was with was yammering on the radio, too fast for Castiel to understand. "Cas they found her."

"What?"

"They found her."

"Who?"

"Just get out and get her! Mark says she wants you."

Castiel ignored the man’s grumbling as he clamored out the truck, following -what was his name? Dave? John?- who lead him down to a little shack where other hunters were parked at, the tiny house having an almost haunted feeling that almost made Castiel panic.

 _Just the weed_. 

"The demon’s got herself held up in the bedroom."

"How did you find her?"

"Dead demon trail down the road, could smell the sulphur."

Castiel shuddered, making his way over destroyed rooms to get to the master bedroom at the end, almost not noticing how much blood was everywhere.

"Meg?"

"Clarence?" a weak voice called back, and Castiel almost felt his high dissipate at how she looked. Blood was everywhere, as well as a few more bodies of demons. Meg was on her side in the bed, bleeding heavily from a wound in her side.

"Meg, what happened?"

"Had to stop them," she coughed. "They were gonna attack the camp."

"The demons?"

She smirked up at him, “The wings weren’t the only things that fell, huh?”

Carefully, he lifted her in his arms, careful to keep her wound unexposed. “What did they do this with?”

"Angels blades. Apparently they’re everywhere now. Clarence-“

"Shh," Castiel muttered, stepping over a body while trying to fit them both out the door. The demon looked so small and fragile in his arms that he was afraid one wrong step would break her.

She didn’t argue, just buried her face in his jacket. “You know, I think I miss the coat.”

—

"So that’s it?" 

"Dean, she almost died to protect the camp," Castiel downed another shot of whiskey, almost amused at his friend’s disbelief. 

"It’s just…How did she know? How did she lead them all out there?"

Castiel frowned. “False information?”

"Maybe."

"She’s not doing well."

"Well, taking an arrow to the knee like that can fuck someone up."

"What I mean, Dean, is that I’m staying with her."

"What?" Dean stood from his chair. "Dude, you said it was just sex."

"It is, but I owe her. She saved us, Dean."

Dean frowned at his whiskey before dumping it down his throat. “Fine. Fine! But if she’s faking, or fucks upup the camp, Cas, I swear-“

"I know," Castiel muttered, taking one final shot before heading out the door to Dean’s cabin.


	5. Feather Duster

He didn’t exactly know what he was getting himself into. To be honest, Castiel wasn’t too sure about anything now, other than the fact that he had a new purpose for the first time in a very, very long time. 

It was fulfilling, the idea of caring for someone who seemed to be needing him. He couldn’t help Dean anymore so having Meg to care for seemed to be something Castiel looked forward to.

After a while it seemed easier; checking her everyday for healing on the damage the demon horde had inflicted on her, cleaning her wounds and gently talking to her.

She was unconscious for most of it; her body struggling to heal as she coped with the massive injuries. To be honest, Castiel wasn’t sure how she was even still alive.

it’s when she wakes up finally that Castiel starts to back off her, more of less just simply watching her from afar and keeping track of what she did and where she went. 

Though she didn’t do much. neither did the hunters or the refugees, they were all too busy trying to keep the demon raid under wraps and keep people calm and sane. The Croats also seemed to keep to themselves, backing off from attacks and it almost felt like the camp had a special force field that seemed to protect it.

"Why you doin’ this, Clarence?" Meg asked when he changed her bandages again.

"You said something would come from our ‘friends with benefits’ deal. You could have killed yourself, but I owe you." 

"No one owes me a damn thing," wincing at the hard touch of his hands on her sides. "It’s why I keep sticking my head out I guess."

"I can see how that’s a problem. Can you lift your arm?"

"I was liking you playing Barbie doll. You’re soft."

He didn’t know exactly how to take that, but he finished moving her around, pleased at how he managed to get her back to being comfortable and sliding off her bed to sit in the chair he’d brought with him.

"You don’t reek, for once," Meg muttered when she rolled on her back. "I’m actually surprised. Run out of booze?"

"I haven’t had time to resupply myself," Castiel leaned back in the chair, almost struggling just to get comfortable. "Been busy. With you."

"Cute."

"You’d be pleased anyway," he said, looking at her with softy eyes, "Because as I remember, you despised the stench. Though I could never smell it to begin with."

"You know you’re much cuter when you’re shutting up?"

She watched him look up at with a smile. 

"So what, now? Head back and hit one up?"

"I was hoping you’d want me to stay. Honestly-"

"You want to stay?"

He blinked at her. “I wouldn’t mind it. We have another mission tomorrow and I want to make sure you’re alright before we leave.”

She watched him disappear for a while, returning after a while with a ratty, hole-filled sleeping bag.

"Really?"

"Can’t exactly sleep with you now, can I?" He replied as he flattened out the thin material.

"Why are you so sweet on me, Clarence?" Meg asked when he finally settled, laying face first on the top of the bag, not even caring that it was just slightly chilly in the small cabin.

"I don’t know," he muttered, pressing his face into the bag and trying to sleep. She watched him for a bit, amused at how easily she could this sweet little angel. How easy it would be to slit his neck right now, how good it could feel.

How much she couldn’t do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am currently trying my best to update this story, especially since I'm starting a new series (bad Mori) But I promise to get more chapters out


End file.
